


The Road to Home - part 5

by MiaCousland



Series: The Road to Home [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, First Fight, Makeup Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCousland/pseuds/MiaCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia's life at Highever takes an almost dangerous turn.  Alistair is understandably upset and storms off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Home - part 5

After two hours laying in bed, looking up at the canopy, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. It just wasn't going to happen. I hadn't left the room since we had arrived. Alistair had left briefly to inform my brother that I had suddenly begun to feel unwell. Not a million miles from the truth but still a lie. It hurt me to lie to Fergus but I wasn't brave enough to face everyone yet. All those eyes would be upon me, expecting me to be normal. After what had happened here? That wasn't going to happen. How could things ever be normal here again? How could I feel normal ever again? I had closed that part of my life off for so long that I was afraid to revisit it.

I knew Alistair slept soundly enough for me to get up, slip a sleeping gown over my body, grab a blanket and head out of the door, not before also picking up a fresh decanter of Nevarran whiskey and a tumbler. It was only half full but I picked it up nonetheless.  It would do for a few drinks.  Stepping out into the corridor was a big thing for me. Flashbacks of that night unsurprisingly battered my mind but with the practice I had had over the past year of keeping it hidden, it was easy enough to ignore it.

I studiously ignored the opposite bedroom door as I emerged into the outer chamber all our bedrooms emptied out onto. What I found there a year ago will always haunt me. Oren deserved more than … no! I refused to think of it. As I stole along the carpet that ran down the centre of the corridor, I kept my head down and did not look around. My feet knew the way to where I wanted to go before I did. Locked wooden doors proved no barrier to me. I smiled wistfully as I let myself through with only a hairpin. Such skills were once the bane of my father's existence.

My father …

Another wrench to the present. The past was in the past and there was no point, no reason and no excuse for dwelling on it. I gritted my teeth and climbed the stairs to the battlements, painfully aware of my surroundings. Onwards and upwards I climbed until I reached the wide, stone walkways that ran round the castle. A few deviations here, another tower climbed there and I arrived at a small wooden trapdoor, the handle thick with dust. It was only locked from the inside with a slide bolt so it was with great ease that I stepped out onto the top of the eastern tower, a small wall in front of me and the roof to the tower behind me. This had always been one of my favourite spots of the castle. It held a view over Highever that was unparalleled. Now it was night but soon the sun would rise over my city. The Waking Sea would turn from black to purple to blue tinged with orange before my eyes. A faint echo of pride and anticipation wormed its way into my brain. By now, I had dispensed with such foolish emotions. They would only lead to pain if allowed to run free. I wrapped my blanket around myself, poured a glass of whiskey and sat on the sloping roof, waiting to see if this one stalwart of my happy memories – one of the few – had changed. I prayed to the Maker that it hadn't. If I lost any of the precious few I had of those, I was finished.

The night was cold but I paid it no mind. Slowly I sipped at the amber liquid I held in my hand. It was almost pleasant to feel the coarseness as it fell down my throat. I had never liked it but anything to pierce the pain was welcome. I felt so drained and nobody could set it right. Unbidden, the sound of Mother's voice scalding me for missing reading lessons in the library came from nowhere. It would not go away, no matter how much I tried, so I decided to take the foolish risk of listening to it and remembering. That way madness lay but I couldn't get rid of it.

I could remember her face, I realised. Her green eyes were warm when they smiled at me. No! This was dangerous, I tried to warn myself, but she wouldn't leave my mind. I tried to concentrate on remembering her before the attack. Her hair was tied back in public but once it was just the family, she would unplait it and letting it trail over her shoulders. I smiled at the memory. Father was always admiring it. In our private chambers, when the family would gather to be together, he would sit and run his hands through it. She would often scald him in good humour for burdening her with castle life and causing her to go grey. He would reply that the Maker himself had received complaints about her beauty and had had to balance the odds somehow. Taking the colour from her hair made it easier for the other women of Ferelden to feel good about themselves. I laughed to myself at the memory.

And that caused the first tear to fall down my face. I wiped it away and took a sip of my drink. Another one joined it but I didn't have the energy for sobbing. In my bedroom earlier, I had tried to resist giving in but the pain had become impossible to bear. My mother's face would not leave my mind. Soon enough, I was sniffling as more and more trickled down my cheeks.

“You always did come here when you were upset about something.” my brother's voice echoed sadly from the entrance to the rooftop.

I looked up and saw his face. There were no words that could be said, we both knew it.

“Oh, darling sister.” he said as he strode forward. When he sat down and put his arm about my shoulder, I cried again.  “It gets better.” he whispered kindly. “The longer you are here, the more you remember what they were and who they were. You don't see the place as a tomb but you remember it as our home, and you remember Mother and Father as the warm, loving parents they were. Not the corp …” he said before stopping himself. “I'm sorry.”  
“You buried them well?” I asked in a broken voice, ignoring the image.  
“As only a Cousland can. They are in the family crypt if you would care to see them at some point?” he gently asked.  
“Wow, that might take a lot of doing, Fergus.” I said, laughing in pain at the thought of visiting their graves.

A moment's silence fell.

“Oriana and Oren are there too, if you would like to see them.” he prompted softly.  
“Oh Fergus! I am so sorry! I'd been so distraught and wrapped up in myself...” I threw my arms around his shoulders. “What a horrible sister I am!”  
“It's okay, it's okay.” returned Fergus with a sad smile, patting my back before I sat back down. I looked in his eyes. There was no joy there, just pain. I relaxed and looked at his face. His eyes were downcast. “I visit them almost every day. Oren will … would have been so happy that his aunt was here.”  
“I did so love him.” I told him my brother, desperate to soothe him.  
“And he, you.”

We shared a smile at the joint memory of the sweetest little boy that ever walked through Highever. I found, to my joy, that the memories of him were not of the body that I had found but the living, breathing bundle of fun that I had spent many happy hours entertaining.

“Will you marry again?” I asked.  
“I will have to at some point, I suppose. Highever expects an heir.”  
“Urgh, tell me about it. You just have to produce one for this city. Already there are whispers at court that I should abandon weapons practice and focus on trying to get pregnant.”

Fergus burst out laughing and it made me feel good to see the dark reverie broken.

“A good aunt you may be, but maternal? It's hard to see you, little sister, as a doting mother with twin blades in your hands and lockpicks at your belt.” he said.  
“I would be a very loving mother, dearest Fergus, but the taint ...” I pointed out sombrely, to which my brother quickly settled. “I don't even know if I can bear children.”  
“And what does Alistair say?”  
“To those at court? He says we have been married two weeks. It would not be that quick anyway.”

Fergus looked at me directly and arched his eyebrow, a knowing smile curling his lip.

“What?” I laughed.  
“And you were honourable until you were married, of course.”

I blushed.

“Whilst I love discussing my sex life with my older brother, Fergus, I have to say that you are not, never have been – to my knowledge – and most likely never will be, an uncle. Sadly enough.”  
“I would have been a fantastic uncle.” he grinned. I smiled back at him.  
“It may happen, it is just that the chances are very, very slim of even conceiving, let alone carrying to term. And that is just when one parent bears the taint. Imagine if there are two.”  
“Yes, I see. Well, I will have to remarry, and sire more children. Have you met any good women on your travels?”  
“Well, there is Anora ...” I said, bursting out laughing.  
“And how would your darling husband take to your brother carrying on the Mac Tir bloodline?” Fergus smirked.  
“Hmmm, you may have a point.”  
“Anyway, why are we being serious? I have my baby sister here with me!” he said with a grin and a squeeze of the shoulders. “Pass me that glass.”  
“Oh, yes. The Queen of Ferelden and the Teyrn of Highever getting drunk together, on a rooftop no less! That's not at all dangerous...”

I handed over the glass and he took a gulp.

“That's good whiskey.” he said hoarsely, his voice strained with the fire in the drink, before handing back the tumbler. “Pour me another one.”

Fergus and I sat together on that rooftop and chatted for hours. We talked of our parents, our childhood, the countryside, the town, the darkspawn. I told him about my travels and my companions. I spoke of the battle with the Archdemon. I swear that Fergus had a touch of awe in his voice as I described the moment my sword pierced the monster's skull. The sky rose in colour, announcing the herald of the dawn and I sighed happily as I saw that the view I had wanted to see – my view – had not changed. First navy, then purple, then a lighter blue. The horizon was tinged with pinks and oranges. As the light grew, I turned to watch the rooftops of Highever appear out of the dark. Like old friends appearing after a storm, I greeted them with a smile. The Waking Sea spread out before us and as the sun rose, it chased silver up the wide water and sparkled magically away to the horizon. Already there were boats on there. Fishermen, no doubt, trying for the early morning catch.

By the time that Fergus and I were ready to go and find breakfast, the whiskey was gone.

“Steady,” I tipsily whispered as I leant over to open the trapdoor. “Steady.” With great difficulty and fearlessly slow precision, I pulled it open and cheered. “Yay!”

Both of us made it down the tower to the battlements where we tottered along, nodding our acknowledgements to the castle staff and drunkenly deigning to talk to them. Attempting to, anyway.

“Sire,” came the voice of Ser Ardal when we were near the bedrooms. “We've been looking everywhere for you.”

Fergus turned round, his head turning a little later than his body and his eyes not quite focussing, and saw his seneschal looking at him.

“Ser Ardal!” he half-shouted. “You are a good man, you know that?”  
“Why, thank you Sire. Have you and your sister been getting reacquainted?”  
“We have, no – we did … yes.”  
“We sat on the rooftop and watched the sun rise. We drank whiskey. To your good health!” I said, raising the decanter and unhappily realising that it was empty. “Urgh.” I sneered.  
“With whiskey?” Ser Ardal explained. “On the rooftop?”  
“Yes. Is there a problem?”

Having grown up with the man, I knew when he was irritated, and when he was cross, and when he was mad. Oh, my head wouldn't stop spinning. The man was as unreadable now as he ever had been but I knew from the glare in his eyes that we had done bad things.

“Fergus, I do believe we're in trouble.” I tried to whisper.  
“Nonsense!” Fergus said loudly, clapping Ser Ardal on the back. “He's okay, aren't you, old boy?”  
“Might I suggest, my Lord,” the seneschal said, clearing his throat politely, “that I have your breakfast served in your chambers?”  
“Ooh, yes please!” I said, clapping and jumping up and down.  
“Maker's breath, what is going on out here?” came Alistair's voice as he appeared from round the corner. “What is all the noise?”  
“Darling!” I said as I ran to him and jumped to hug him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He barely had enough time to catch me but he did, stepping back a few paces to steady himself. I reminded myself of how strong he was as I planted a huge kiss on his lips.  
“What have you been doing, Mia?” he said cautiously. He was looking at me strangely.  
“I haven't been doing anything! Don't assume I have.” I waved my finger in his face before smiling and tapping the end of his nose.  
“You're drunk? At this hour in the morning?” he said, looking to Ser Ardal and Fergus for explanation. Fergus was stood with his hands in his pockets looking sheepishly at Alistair. He swayed on the spot. From the look on his face, he knew he'd been caught.  
“My Liege,” began Ser Ardal. “They have been drinking. On the roof.”

Alistair's eyes widened and I swear he was going to shout at me. I kissed him again but he pulled back and lowered me to the floor.

“Is this true?” he asked in a quiet and dangerous voice. My head was spinning now so much that it was all I could do nod. “Fergus, Ser Ardal, do excuse me. I need to talk with my wife for a moment.” he said in a tight-lipped manner. “Darling, please do join me in the bedroom.”

I glanced nervously at Fergus before following my husband. I knew I was in trouble now. As I entered the room and shut the door behind me with great difficulty, I saw that he was pacing back and forward, wringing his hands and muttering to himself.

“Do you not even realise how much you mean to me?” he started off with. A glare from those hurt amber eyes told me all I needed to know. The alcohol was making me woozy but I could still recognise that.  
“Of course I do, my darling. What have I done now?”

Very slowly and very deliberately, I sat down on the end of the bed. My head felt like it was constantly moving, or maybe it was me as I watched him walk about the room. He stopped and looked at me.

“The roof? You were getting drunk on the roof!?” he demanded angrily.  
“No, Alistair. I didn't go up there to get drunk. I went up there to escape and I happened to take a drink with me.”  
“' _A_ ' drink? Then pray tell me what that is in your hand?”

I lifted up the empty decanter and woozily looked at it.

“Oh.”  
“The thing is, Mia, at the moment you are hurt, beyond measure. It is horrible being here and I know that, but you can't risk yourself so carelessly and leave me ...”  
“I'm not going to leave you.” I said carefully.  
“You could have fallen and killed yourself!” he roared. “For fuck's sake, an Archdemon can't take you down but your own stupidity might have done!”

His voice rang around the bare stone walls. Alistair never shouted. It was with that I knew I had wronged. Everything came crashing down on me. I went up there because I wanted to escape but surely I didn't want to escape permanently, did I? My parents were gone and there was a gaping void in my soul. Just being back here at Highever was pain enough.  Is it possible I had decided it was too much?

“This is difficult for me, Alistair.” I said finally.  
“Mia, you're in pain. I get that. I can't understand it, what you're going through, but I know this isn't you.”  
“No, you _don't_ know what I'm going through." I said bitterly, lashing out and not caring what I had said. "How could you? You've never had the family to lose like this. You're lucky!”

I will never forget the look of pure fury Alistair – my sweet, soft Alistair – shot me. His lips turned white as he pressed them together and his nostrils flared. His hands alternated from fists to flexing fingers and back again. All the muscles in his neck were tensed and I wondered, somewhat warily, what he was going to do. It had sobered me up pretty sharply. I was instantly regretting what I had said, but I had no idea what had mattered so much to him.  

He turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. From beyond, I heard him roar at someone to move out of the way. My head was starting to pound and not just from the drink. From personal experience, I knew that I needed to give him some space. He didn't erupt very often but when he did, it was horrifically intimidating to watch. The silence of my old bedroom started to return. All I could hear was the crackle of the fire the servants had stolen into our chambers and started whilst Alistair had been asleep. I could see on the table against one of the walls that they had also provided a pot of coffee. There was always water to drink so I poured a large glass of that and drank it down straight away. Coffee was next and I sat back to sip it slowly. My eyes alighted on his armour. As I looked at the square blue shield we had found in the Grey Warden cache in Denerim, I felt my eyes close and my cheeks burn in stupid recognition.

How could I have been so unfeeling?  

Jumping up straight away, I felt a surge of pain in my head so I sat back down again.  A few minutes of calm, sipping water, was all I needed.  I had spent enough nights out in the open drinking Oghren's booze to know that I could sober up quickly.  If I could drink that filth and fight darkspawn after, I could certainly go and speak to my husband after a few tumblers of Nevarran whiskey.  I marched over to the porcelain sink in one corner of my room and splashed some cool water on my face.  I was feeling better already, and a lot less woozy.  Wrapping a silk robe round my cotton nightdress, I left the room and ran to look for Alistair.

Walking the corridors and walkways of my childhood home was strange but hauntingly familiar.  If I hadn't have been looking for my husband, I would have revelled in the fact that I didn't feel nauseous as I paced around.

"Tomas!" I called to a little elven servant I recognised from before I had left.  "Where is the King?"  
"Your husband?" I nodded.  "He is in the training yard, my Lady."

I hurried through the maze of the castle before arriving at the doors to the outside yard.  Opening it quietly and standing at the top of some stone steps, I could hear Alistair before I could see him.  Grunts and angry shouts rang out, and coarse language filled the air as the metal sound of a sword hit the dull thud of wood.  I looked to a sunny corner of the training yard and saw him, moving as gracefully and ferociously as I'd seen in a long time.  I had seen him at the heat of battle and Alistair was bewitching in his deadliness.  He danced a savage fight as enemies around him fell in waves.  Here in this stone yard, the power that swung through the sword was overwhelming and I stood there captivated.  He fought to slay a wooden practise post and already he had taken chunks from it.

"For the love of the Maker!" he yelled angrily.  "Gaah!"

With a brutal backwards whirl, he laid the metal into the post with both hands and it stopped, bitten deep into the wood.  It wobbled as he dropped his hands from it, placing them on his hips and panting with exertion.  I could see that his face already ran with sweat as he swept a hand over it.  He placed one hand on the pommel of the sword and a foot on the post.  With a powerful wrench and a grunt, he dislodged the weapon and went to hit it again.

"Alistair?" I called out before he did so, causing him to stop and turn around. 

For a moment, he stood there looking up at me, his face devoid of emotion.  I walked softly down the stone steps, cool under my bare feet, and kept eye contact until I was only a small distance away.

"You say I have no family, and you're wrong." he spoke plainly.  " _You_ are my family."  
"I'm sorry, my love." I said softly.  
"Before you all I had was ..."  
"Duncan.  I know." I acquiesced.

He stood looking at me, his amber eyes piercing my heart.

"You seem to think that the only family that matters is the one into which you are born.  I found mine after my blood kin rejected me.  Duncan was it.  He was my mentor and my father, and he is dead.  Killed by betrayal, the same as you.  Do not tell me that you have lost more than I have, for I know what it is like to lose a father as well.  I know pain too, Mia."

He had maintained a fragile hold on his composure but this time it was not anger that bubbled under the surface.  His red eyes told the same horrific story mine had the previous day.  I closed the distance between the two of us and placed my hands on his cheeks.

"I am sorry. Truly."  
"You were on a roof, drunk, and have been in emotional distress.  What else was I suppose to think but that you were going to go away from me too?  That you had gone up there to ..." He shut his eyes tight before finishing the sentence.  
"I would never do that!" I hurried, desperate to let him know how sad I was.  
"You are the other half to my soul, Mia." he said with a voice laden in sorrow as he rested his forehead against mine.  "I cannot do without you."  
"Oh my love, you will never have to!" I cried.

I pulled his mouth down to mine and prayed to the Maker that I could let him know how truly sorry I was, and how much I loved him, in one kiss.  His mouth responded to mine and after he broke off, he kissed my forehead and wrapped his strong arms around me.  After a few moments safe in his embrace, I took his hand and turned to walk back inside.  We made it back to our rooms in our own bubble, not even acknowledging others.  Pulling him inside, I shut the door and led him over to the bed, laying down backwards on the soft mattress.  His heavy weight lay on top of me and his warm lips pressed down on mine.  His large hands with the rough skin were tender as he lifted his face away and stroked my cheek devotedly with the back of his fingers.  Inches away, he smiled warmly at me but didn't say a word.  He didn't have to.  I lifted my head to kiss him again and he responded with a depth of feeling that made my mind sing.

I eventually pushed him off me and I stood, pulling my robe off and my cotton shirt over my head, all the time keeping eye contact with him.  He followed suit and pulled his loose shirt over his head to reveal his wonderful broad chest.  He pulled his boots off and threw them away before pulling me into another kiss.  He was still sat down but I lowered my head to meet his hungry mouth.  When he had finished, I tipped my head back and he planted hot kisses between my naked breasts.  My fingers played with the auburn hair on his head and I sighed contentedly as he kissed my breasts, lightly flicking my nipples with his tongue.  Drawing his head back to look up at me, he beamed another of those enchanting smiles as he gazed deep into my eyes.  Lifting his backside, he slid his trousers to the floor and moved up the bed, laying on the pillows.  I crawled up the bed to straddle him, kneeling above him on all fours, and my breasts hung down to graze lightly against his body.  My blonde hair trailed over him but he lifted his hand to brush it back from my face before bringing my mouth down to his once more.  I closed my eyes as I kissed him lovingly.  His hands moved from my head along my back and rested on my bottom, making me lay on top of him.  He was already evidently enthralled as I had to readjust how I lay to accommodate his hardening cock against my stomach.  His skin, flushed from the exercise outside, felt so warm against mine as I lay there kissing my gorgeous husband.

He gently rolled me over so he was on top and he lay there, heavy but not crushing me.  His muscled arms propped him up well and he started kissing my neck.  A slow, languid smile spread across my face as he nuzzled my neck and ears.  Reaching down, he slipped one hand under my thigh and brought it higher.  I gladly wrapped it around him.  He pressed at the entrance to my heat and I moaned my acceptance into his mouth.  Gently he pushed into me and I inhaled with pleasure as he did so.  When Alistair was in me, and we were one, it was more than sex, and certainly more than physical pleasure.  What he had said earlier about being two parts of one soul was too evident when we made love.  Tenderly, he moved in and out of me, holding my cheek as he kissed me.  As the rate at which he pushed into me increased, each time going deeper and hitting places in me that fired glorious feelings, I started to moan into his kisses.  He left my mouth and returned to my neck.  The heat was increasing now and so was the insistence with which he drove into me.  The hot breath on my neck and the groans of pleasure only served to take me higher.  As he reached the point of coming deep within me, he brought his head up and looked deep into my eyes.

"I love you." he whispered, smiling down at me.

It was all I do to bite my lip and nod.  He crushed his lips onto mine and pushed even more insistently.  In a few seconds, a glorious orgasm hit me and my back arched underneath him, breasts pressed against his chest.  Moments later, he followed suit, not with a roar but with hot and throaty moans into my neck.  Working together, we came down from the high and collapsed back onto the bed.  He kissed me blissfully before pulling himself out and rolling back onto the pillows.  We both lay looking up at the canopy before rolling our heads to look at the other's face inches away.  His eyes shone as he smiled and grasped my hand, entwining his fingers in mine.

"Together, always." he said, quoting a line from our wedding vows.  
"Always." I smiled back.


End file.
